The End
by csiAngel
Summary: GC. Here's where the story ends...


**Spoiler warning: contains casting spoilers for the upcoming series finale.**

Title: The End

Author: csiAngel

Rating: K+

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI.

Summary: Here's where the story ends...

Season: Intended to be set after the events of the upcoming series finale.

A/N: From what I have read about the upcoming series finale, I highly doubt it is going to end the way I would like for my favourite characters. So here's some scenes I'd like to see :) Turned out a bit cheesier than I had thought it would. Ha ha!

... ... ...

Catherine stopped in the doorway of the Crime Lab locker room when she found Grissom in there, seated on the bench. A smile crept across her lips.

"Like old times," she commented.

He had apparently failed to notice her arrival until she spoke. He looked up at her with brief surprise before smiling himself - unconvincingly. She had wondered how working with Sara again had affected him. It was part of the reason she had been looking for him. She may not have been a fan of that relationship - or of the relationship with Heather that seemed to be developing again - but she was willing to put that aside in favour of offering Gil her support. All this reminiscing had served to remind her that she missed their friendship, first and foremost.

"Do you fancy breakfast? It'd just be the two of us. Be nice to catch up properly."

"That sounds good."

"The diner round the corner?"

"Sure."

Now his smile seemed more genuine.

... ... ...

"... She calls me every other day, though. I suppose that's all I can ask for," Catherine laughed.

"It sounds like things are good between the two of you."

"Yeah, they are. Took a while but we got there... Anyway, enough about me. We've covered Lindsey, and my lack of love life. Your turn."

"There's not much to tell."

"Okay, I'll choose a topic... Heather."

"I knew that was why you wanted to have breakfast."

She grinned, wickedly. "We're reminiscing, Gil. Back in the early days I used to help you with your personal stuff."

"Ah. 'Help'. That's how you remember it?"

"Hey! Things were going well until you decided to branch out independently." She smirked at him as she said that so he would know she was teasing.

"So you've got some advice about Heather?"

"Only if you want it."

"Well, that's certainly different from years ago."

"So is this backchat from you."

Gil shrugged. "I've missed you."

Catherine leaned towards him, over the table, so she could reduce the volume of her voice as she asked him, "Even my tush?"

Gil laughed at that and she joined him.

"Do you remember every conversation we've ever had?"

"Only the ones where you complimented me... Now, stop trying to change the subject. There's obviously a spark between you and Heather, still."

"That's all it is."

"Because of Sara? Gil, just because you knew Heather before you were with Sara, it doesn't mean anything was going on while you were together. You're not betraying your ex wife, Gil. You're divorced. You're both entitled to move on... If Sara were dating, say, Nick... would you feel betrayed?"

"Sara and Nick? Huh."

"Makes sense, doesn't it?" She had always thought they would make a cute couple - and only partly because that would mean Sara would leave Gil alone. "But what would you think? You wouldn't expect her not to date him because they were friends before the two of you got involved."

"No, I wouldn't."

"And I know Sara can have a tendency to... sulk. But, how often do you see her? Should she really get to dictate whether or not you're happy."

"I'm not unhappy."

"No... But if you want to share your life with someone, you're allowed to."

"That sounds like reasonable advice."

"It sounds like good advice."

"I'll think about it."

"Okay. Just please let this happen faster than your relationship with Sara did. Don't wait six years!"

She actually surprised herself with how easily she could talk about Gil and Sara together. It was something that, for many years, had just made her feel sad: Missed opportunities and all that. Evidently she was over it; over him. Or maybe the fact that they had split up made it less of a heartache.

He smiled at her and she knew it must be the latter. She certainly wasn't over him. Yet here she was advising him on starting a relationship with someone else from their shared past. Obviously she was a glutton for punishment.

"You really think it would be okay? Even though the 'spark' was there before Sara?"

"I really do... I like Sara, Gil, I do. But unless you're hesitating because you want to get back together, then she shouldn't factor into your actions... Do you want to get back together with her?"

"No... No."

"Okay then. Think about what I've said. Let me know what you decide... We should keep in touch better this time."

"Yes we should."

... ... ...

Catherine stopped in front of Gil in the foyer of her hotel and smiled at him. "When I said we should keep in touch better, I didn't expect you to call so soon."

He stood from the chair he had been waiting in and returned the smile. "I wanted to catch you before you left town."

"Well you managed that. Good thing I told you when I was leaving."

"Are you trying to make me regret it?"

"That would never happen," she grinned.

Gil indicated the direction he wished her to go and fell into step beside her.

"I take it you have news for me?" she prompted.

He just frowned as he always did when trying to pretend he didn't know what she was talking about.

She rolled her eyes. "I assume we're having dinner so you can update me on the Heather project."

"I'm sure women love to be referred to as a 'project'."

"Which one of us is more of an authority on women?"

He shot her a look of disapproval but otherwise ignored that question. It had been rhetorical anyway.

"There's nothing to update about Heather," he insisted, holding the door of the hotel open for her.

"Oh, Gil," she groused, stopping in front of him. "Why not? It's really not that difficult. You just pick up the phone and you ask her to dinner."

"Oh, it's that simple?"

"Yes."

"I just call her and ask her to dinner?"

"Yes!"

He ushered her out of the doorway and onto the sidewalk. "I don't need to explain anything first?"

"The invitation to dinner will cover that."

"I shouldn't try to find out if she feels the same about me?"

"How could she not?"

"Cath –"

She looped her arm around his as she continued to follow his lead as to their destination. "Gil… Just call, and take it from there."

"Just call."

"Yes."

"Then book a table somewhere."

"Yes. Somewhere nice. But not too nice unless you tell her to dress up."

"So, somewhere with good food, maybe a little music."

"Nice atmosphere. Yes. Exactly! See, you can do this."

He turned them at the next side street and they walked a short distance off the strip.

"What if she doesn't realise that it's a date?"

"I think that's unlikely. Given your history and your recent reunion, I think she'll assume it's a date."

"Did you?"

"What?"

"I called you; I asked you to dinner; we have history and we were recently reunited. Did you assume this was a date?"

She laughed to cover the fact that she would absolutely love this to be a date. "No, I didn't. But, then, I know about Project Heather… Don't worry. You'll be able to make it clear that it's a date."

"I don't know."

She smiled, sadly, in sympathy for him and in regret for herself. His feelings for Heather were obviously very strong if he was worrying about it this much. She wondered, momentarily, why she was putting herself through this.

"When did you become such a worrier?"

He shrugged. "This is important."

"Okay…" She stopped walking and waited for him to do the same, giving this the attention it would deserve were it any other friend she was helping. "If you want to make it clear that it's a date. Tell her when you call."

"What if I forget?"

"What if you don't?" she smiled, hiding the fact that her patience was wearing thin.

"I think it's likely I'd be too nervous to tell her on the phone."

"All right… If you don't tell her when you call, and you realise that she doesn't know it's a date, then, at some point during the evening, just look straight into her eyes and she'll know."

"Really?"

"Are you asking me for advice and then questioning it? Again?"

"Of course not. I just want to make sure I heard you correctly. So I just need to hold her gaze and look into her eyes… and she'll –"

He did as he was describing and Cath had to look away to hide the shiver that ran through her body. "Yes, she'll know." She shot him a quick smile and resumed walking. "I take it the restaurant is around here somewhere and you're not expecting me to walk another three blocks in these shoes?" She really hoped he would take her change of subject. It was one thing for her to endure giving him advice on asking out another woman, but quite another for him to try out said advice on her.

He laughed, once. "Yeah, it's over there." He indicated across the street to a small Italian restaurant that must have opened since Cath left, because she was not familiar with it.

"Good… Both for you and for my feet."

She moved towards the edge of the sidewalk to cross, but Gil stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Cath…"

She knew what was coming. She turned back to him. "Gil, if she still seems to be oblivious, you're just going to have to tell her."

"Just tell her?"

"Just tell her… It'll be fine. Trust me… Can we go to dinner now?"

"Sure."

Though he said that, her second attempt to cross the street was also thwarted by his warm hand on her arm.

"But before we do…"

She tried not to show the agitation she was feeling when she faced him once more.

"… I need to… clear up a misunderstanding… Cath, I don't intend to ask Heather out."

Confusion, anger and a little bit of glee rushed Catherine's mind. "What?"

"It was good to see her again, but that's all."

"Then why have I been giving you advice?"

"Because I needed it."

"Gil, you're not really making sense. If you're not interested in Heather then why all the questions?"

He took a step closer and she found her gaze captured by his again. "Because I was too nervous on the phone to say anything except the dinner invitation."

The glee was overpowering the anger, but the confusion held fast because she must have been misunderstanding this. Or imagining it. "I thought you hadn't –"

"Catherine..."

The sincerity of his tone and the veiled plea for her to understand him very quickly assured her this was not in her imagination.

"But you chose Sara."

That statement was out before she even knew she was going to speak. It surprised her as much as it surprised Gil.

She quickly clarified, "Not - … I didn't mean ch—"

"I never believed that you and I could happen. I'm not exactly your type."

"My type?" she queried, still not quite convinced that they were really having this conversation.

He shrugged. "I'm not a 'bad boy'."

"And that's my type?"

"Eddie; Chris; Adam Novak… I'm nothing like them," he explained, and his voice sounded almost regretful.

"And it worked out so well with all of them," she muttered.

"I was surprised when I heard about you and Vartann."

"Because he wasn't my type either?"

"He was different."

"And that didn't work out either… Why are you doing this now, Gil?"

"Because… I miss you – and your tush. And I had to at least try… I thought Vartann might be a sign that your taste had changed and maybe - ... "

"My taste hasn't changed." Disappointment flashed across his face. "Gil, every single thing that makes you different from Eddie and Chris and – why the hell do you even remember Adam Novak? – Gil, everything that means you are not them is what makes you my type… And what convinced me that I'm not good enough for you."

"What?"

"I never believed that you and I could happen… Because I'm not exactly your type."

"Cath, you defined my 'type'… I had never met anyone like you," he smiled fondly.

She laughed, recalling the shell-shocked look on Gil's face when they had first met. "Oh, that was quite apparent."

He chuckled too. "I'm glad we became friends."

"Me too."

For a moment the two of them stood in a comfortable silence, sharing a smile about time gone by.

"Do you think that's all we're supposed to be?" Gil asked quietly, eventually breaking the silence.

"I used to... But apparently I didn't have all of the evidence."

"And now that you do?"

"Now… Now, I think we should go to dinner."

He nodded his agreement. "Because your feet are hurting?"

"Partly."

As they shared another smile, their gazes locked and that shiver ran through Catherine's body again.

"I really do give good advice," she whispered.

"You do."

"What would I advise about the distance?"

"You'd say we can make it work."

"And you really want to do this?"

"I really want to do this."

"Then let's start with dinner, and go from there."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Okay. I know a cosy little Italian restaurant around here somewhere."

"Sounds perfect. Lead the way."

The hand that had previously caught her arm to stop her from crossing the street, took a gentle hold of her hand but rather than walk, Gil raised her hand to his lips. He pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles then whispered, "I'm sorry I left it this long."

Catherine smiled and stepped closer to him, placing a kiss of her own to his lips. His reaction was only slightly less shocked than he had been at their first meeting over twenty-five years ago. She grinned, amused and delighted to have him back.

"We got there in the end," she remarked.

And, hand in hand, they stepped onto the road together.

THE END


End file.
